


A Tail?

by Withstarryeyes



Series: Merman Dean [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comedy, Fluff and Humor, Fluffy, Gen, Humor, Hunt Gone Wrong, Witches, creaturefic, merman, merman!Dean, seafood addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-18 18:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5938405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Withstarryeyes/pseuds/Withstarryeyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean hated witches. He had already despised them, what with the selling of souls and the spreading of bodily fluids and them always hiding those obnoxious hex bags everywhere Dean didn’t want them. But this? This was it. He had a tail. A long, jet black tail with grey shimmery scales. He went to take a shower and ended up on the ground with a tail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to make an AU type thing and merman!Dean just sounded really appealing to me.

Dean hated witches. He had already despised them, what with the selling of souls and the spreading of bodily fluids and them always hiding those obnoxious hex bags everywhere Dean didn’t want them. But this? This was it. He had a  _ tail _ . A long, jet black tail with grey shimmery scales. He went to take a shower and ended up on the ground with a  _ tail _ . One that had white scars and rips out of the fluke. 

“Dean? You okay in there?” Sam’s concerned voice calls through the door. 

Dean was lacking a response. What could he say? That he was a merman, a fish, an actual mythological creature. Well, he could, but he’d rather find a way out of this on his own. 

“Yeah. Careful man, the bottom of this shower is slippery,” Dean says back and looks around, trying to find a bar he can pull on to lift himself out of this wet nightmare. 

His eyes catch on the toilet roll holder and he tries to calculate whether it will hold his weight or not. How much did the tail weigh anyway? He decides to chance it and grips the cool handle, the toilet paper hopelessly catching onto his slick fingers and dissolving. He grunts as he twists his torso, the tail flipping onto the floor with a slapping noise. God, how was he going to explain that to Sam?

“Dean, seriously, what’s going on in there?” Sam yells and Dean can hear the doorknob rattling. Shit, Sam can pick a lock and Dean knows he only has a couple of seconds to make this tail disappear. 

Dean lunges for his towel, running the soft material up and down the sides of his black tail, the scales starting to dry. The doorknob starts to turn and Dean shoves it closed again with his fluke. He can hear Sam’s drawn out sigh from the other side of the door as he ruffles the towel through his hair and down his arms, hissing as the material catches on a gash. 

“I’m naked here you perv,” Dean teases and sends out a little prayer that getting dry will make this monstrosity disappear. 

“There are crashes coming from the bathroom! Pardon me for being concerned that you’ve passed out or something,” Dean wicks the last drop of water from his wrist and sucks in a gasp as his tail disappears, leaving him on the ground exposed. 

“Stop worrying bitch,” Dean shrugs on his underwear and pants, deciding against a shirt. 

Dean flings open the door and shoves past his brother. He wants to step back and smooth out the crinkle between his little brother’s eyebrows. He’ll get a headache if he stays scrunched up like that for long. 

“I’m starving you want to go out for food?” Dean asks as he roots through his suitcase for his necklace and a clean t-shirt. 

“Yeah, food sounds amazing. There’s a diner down the street.”

“Do you know if they have any seafood?” The question is out of Dean’s mouth before he can stop it and Sam laughs at the betrayed look on his brother’s face. 

“You want seafood? What is with you?” Sam chuckles and pats his shoulder. 

“I don’t know I guess I’m just craving it,” Dean answers a little defensively. Shrimp sounds way too good and he takes a moment to curse the witch again for this new change. 

It’s a good thing they’re in Maine because Dean finds a lobster restaurant in 10 minutes and is rushing out of the Impala before Sam can whine about missing burgers and fries. 

“Table for two please,” Dean barely addresses the waitress with a low cut top and Sam does a double take at his brother. Did he hit his head on the hunt? But the only wrong with Dean is that is attention is fully centered on the lobsters in the kitchen and Sam swears he can see Dean wondering if it’s worth it to just pull one out of the tank and ignore the ordering. 

The waitress sits them into a red clamshell booth and the younger Winchester wonders why on earth Dean dragged them here. 

“Sam look they have tuna tar tar. Oh and salmon! Do you want to split some crab cakes with me?” Dean’s mouth is watering at the menu and his stomach pangs with hunger. 

“Whatever, I’m not that hungry anyway,” Dean’s eyes shoot up to look at Sam then. His mouth is set in a scowl and he’s looking at Dean like a case he can’t figure out. It’s a wonder Sam’s not researching him on his laptop. 

A new waitress comes around and Dean’s eyes barely flicker over her curves accentuated by the mermaid leggings she's wearing before ordering half a dozen crab cakes and shoving a menu at her hands. 

Sam gives an apologetic look at her and whispers a soft sorry, once again convinced something was up with Dean. 

“Okay spill,” Sam growls and Dean’s shoulders hunch a little at the memory of the tail. 

“I just figured we could enjoy some of the local cuisine.”

“Cuisine, Dean? I’ve tried to get you to try sushi before and you threw it out the window,” Sam’s tapping his foot and his arms are crossed, “Did the witch do something to you?” 

Dean swallows hard and tries to think of an acceptable lie when the crab cakes are laid between them. 

“Nothing, let’s just eat okay?” But Dean knows there’s no way Sam is letting this go and he knows he has to come up with a plan and a solution for his new identity quick. 


	2. Chapter 2

He’s 3 hours deep in some research when he feels Sam’s hand land on his shoulder. 

“Mermen? You got a case for us?” Sam asks and Dean fumbles with the laptop keys, clicking out of half a dozen programs. 

“Mermaids, just...research,”

“You mean porn?” Sam’s eyebrow arches and Dean pretends to look mildly sheepish. 

He’s breathing heavy when Sam leaves, eyeing the bathroom. He wants to see the tail again but Sammy is still awake and it’d be a risk. Too large of one? Right? He seeks out Sam’s spot on the large recliner, eyes obeying the action in a telenovela.The nerd learned Spanish right along with Latin. The TV is on volume 30 and Dean reasons there’s no way he’ll be able to hear Dean splashing and and flipping his tail in the tub. Grabbing his towel, he heads into the bathroom, grateful for the deep jacuzzi-sized tub. 

The only problem was that Dean didn’t know how  _ this  _ worked. Did he just have to get wet? Submerged? Did he have to hum the ACDC song he was jamming to in the shower earlier? Sighing, Dean turned the hot nozzle on the bathtub, stripping out of his shirt, jeans and boxers. The amulet he got from Sam still dangling from his neck as he entered the steaming tub. In a breath, his tail grew from his legs. Gasping, Dean ran his fingers down the body of it. The scales felt more like snake skin than fish scales and his fluke was fanning out like fire. There were streaks of red on the sides and marbled black and grey scales down the middle. Dean put it to the test, rocking it up and down, sending a small wave over the side of the tub. His towel laid behind on on the counter and flipping over to reach it sent another small tsunami through the bath water. Dean let out a laugh. He has a tail, an actual real life tail. 

His back twinged from being thrown into a wall at the hunt and Dean sunk deeper into the water, letting it reach up to his neck. His tail laid outside the lip of the tub and Dean sighs at the cool breeze reaching it. The temperature was perfect, the tub comfy and Dean was just tired enough…

He wakes up shivering and for a second he thinks he’s on a hunt. It’s not until he feels the porcelain tub underneath him do his eyes focus and…. holy shit. He’s underwater, has been for a while far as he can discern. Lungs hitching on water and a very automatic response of  _ not air, not air!  _ He’s bolting upright and gasping like a drowning victim. Marbles skin and blue lips and Dean’s vaulting the side of the tub, not caring about the crashing. He’d been breathing. Underwater. For a night. Holy shit. 

The pounding on the door does nothing to match the pounding in Dean’s heart. Half stunned, he dries himself off and swings open the door. 

“D-did you fall asleep in here?” Sam’s eyes are confused and his hair is messy from sleep. 

“No, just got up early and didn’t want to wake you,” He’s lying through his teeth, 

“Sure,” There’s no way Sam believes that lie but Dean takes denial in stride with the whole breathing underwater thing. 

Dean wants to blow off steam with a jog but his legs feel like jello and he’s still shivering from the long-cold bath. His fingers fumble with the remote and flip on a channel, the sound buzzing through his mind. 

Google gives no result on how to undo a merman spell so Dean calls up Bobby, hoping the older hunter can find something. 

“Hey Bobby I was hoping you could help me with something,” Dean whispers into the phone, eyes acting as guards on the bathroom door to ensure Sam doesn't overhear anything. 

“What did you get yourself into this time?” Bobby’s voice is rough and clipped. 

“No telling Sam,” is his only response and Bobby sighs long and hard on the other line. 

“Fucking idjit,” Bobby mumbles into the phone before saying an agreement. 

He’s up and pacing and spilling the story about the enchantment while Bobby flips through old pagan books, spellbooks and hunter journals. He’s excited when he tells Bobby the details of his tail, the one that looks like it could be printed on an AC/DC album and how it has all the scars and nicks a proper badass tail should have. The cadence of his voice fades like day into night at the hours spent in the tub and Dean can’t help but feel the water in his lungs again. There like it belonged, just as rightful to his breathing as air, even though it’s denser and sloshed uncomfortably under his skin. Then again, his mind was telling him he couldn’t just breathe water. 

“I can’t find anything here right now but I’ll keep looking. I have a couple dozen spellbooks in the panic room and even more hunter journals hidden in my safe. Just, try not to do anything too stupid. Like fall asleep in a bathtub. A cold, hard, bathtub,” Dean can see Bobby removing his baseball cap to rub at his forehead at the words but he knows its out of love Bobby would even go through all this. 

“Thanks, Bobby,” Dean really means it, The sooner his tail goes away the sooner he can stop lying to Sammy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second chapter to this fic. Please feel free to leave a comment :)


	3. Chapter 3

“Dean we need to head out,” Sam calls from the other room and Dean’s packing up all his stuff in his duffel bag. The window is open and an ocean breeze blows in, salty scent and cool tones. 

They have a long way to travel and Dean’s back still aches from the wall but he always feels better when he's driving his Impala. The seats are warm from the morning sun and the exterior of baby shines. 

“You got everything you need? Beverage, snacks?” Dean says, listing off the usual essentials they get before heading out for another town. 

Sam nods and Dean smiles as he releases the clutch, pulling his car on the main road out of this seaside town and onto a highway for Ohio. 

The road was his home, the lights and the smells and the purr of the engine he can feel through his feet. The music is turned down low and Dean listens to his brother’s snores. Its 3 in the morning and there’s no one on the road, just bliss. Drink to lips, Dean’s eyes scan the horizon, blank… except for that deer. Shit. 

Swerving, missing, the water splashing down Dean’s tank top and Sammy gasping. 

“Son of a bitch,” He’s breathing heavy as the car evens out, his water all over his lap. He pulls the car over to the shoulder. “I have to go,” Dean fumbles his seatbelt off and races off the side of the highway, tumbling down the hill when his legs turn into a tail and no longer carry him. 

“Dean! Dean!” The grass is rustling and Dean knows Sam’s going to find him. 

Dean is fucked. He’s fucked all down the east coast, the west coast. He’s fucked across the whole damn United States if he can’t find a way away from his brother. 

“Dude what the fuck?” Sam’s dangerously close and Dean can see the stupid thing his face does when he’s thinking. The eyes slightly squinting and the lips puffing out and his eyebrows scrunching. 

The grass around him offers him little advice on what to do and it’s not like Dean’s been trained to hide his tail like the guns in his trunk. The trunk! There’s a tarp in there and Dean’s not sure how he’s going to power up the hill but he’s willing to try. He flaps his tail like a wing and surprisingly inches up a bit in the dirt. His abs are on fire by the time he reaches the top but he had enough time to get there after throwing a rock past Sam for distraction. The road scratches the scales on Dean’s tail as he worms his way to the trunk of the impala, reaching up to unlatch it. The tarp makes quick work of the water and in no time Dean’s view is of the top and not the tire of the car. 

There’s dirt everywhere, he can feel it on his face and his hands and even under his fingernails but at least he’s safe. Feet burning, Dean leans his head back and pops on a song, humming it under his breath to wait for the return of his brother. He still didn’t know quite how he was going to explain the whole abandoning of the car and mysterious unknown return but he was quick on his feet and knew he’d think of something. 

“Dean! What the hell!” Aaaaand Sam’s back. 

Dean pretends to close his eyes and rubs his temples a little bit. He hunches over and moves a hand to his stomach. “Don’t talk so loud,” He mumbles and hopes to god his con doesn’t go south. 

“Are you going to puke?” Sam’s exasperated. 

“Already did, can you drive?” It’s the best lie he can make up for leaving the highway in a hurry. He wishes he turned the heat on full blast before so his skin would feel feverish but nevertheless lets out a small moan when Sam exits the car and it dips. 

He has a few seconds to think of how to execute the rest of this sick plan before Sam’s tapping his shoulder and telling him to move over. 

Although now that he really thinks about it, Dean doesn’t feel all that great. He’s not nauseous but his legs burn and itch and he’s pretty sure the scratches weren’t just on his tail. He winces when he remembers that they’re probably filled with dirt. He may not be fucked across the entire United States but he’s definitely a little screwed. 

God the sunlight was obnoxious. They’re in some little town in Ohio at 5 in the morning and Dean is positive the sun is trying to kill him. Or his head. They’re working together, he decides. 

“Can you just get a cup of coffee already?” He snaps at Sam. The outline of the inn is just in his sights and all Dean wants to do is take a bath and clean out the cuts. 

“Alright, alright,” Sam eyes Dean and raises his hands up in mock surrender. 

They finally reach the hotel and Dean practically throws down his bag, rooting through it for a towel and a clean pair of everything. 

The hotel just has a shower and Dean’s mood grows even more sour. Sulking, he grabs disinfectant and slides into the shower. He hopes his tail doesn’t break the glass door but he can’t make any promises. 

The transformation is much more painful than he remembers and the hot water stings all the tears he can find. The cuts are all clean when the water starts to run cold. His scales are dull and some are dented in but he hopes they’ll heal on their own like scabbing on his normal legs. 

That was way too close of a call today but there was nothing he could've done to prevent it. The knowledge upsets Dean more than helps him and he vows to figure out a plan until this tail goes away 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always feedback is much appreciated! Please leave a review so I can improve the story :)


	4. Chapter 4

The sun is especially bright in his eyes in the morning when he rolls over to face away from the window. His bare legs scream as they brush the sheets and Dean tries not to wince. His eyes roll open and Sam’s still sleeping. Dean throws off the covers, cold in just his boxers. 

“Shit, fuck, ah my god,” There are thorns in his legs covered in lemon juice. He’s whispering and cussing and just trying not to wake Sam up. 

He looks like shit when he passes a mirror. His legs are a little puffy and red around the edges. He needs to clean them up but is reluctant to trust the shower again. The water pounded into his mouth and the tiled floor dug into his shoulder blades. Grabbing the keys, Dean set out to find some body of water, anything he could swim in and not feel like he was drowning. He was a merman for God’s sake. 

The closest thing to a body of water he found was a small lake in the back side of town. Stripping back down to his boxers, Dean inched out into the water, sighing as the cool waves lapped at the inflamed skin. The sun had yet to warm the water yet and Dean thanked the numbness spreading through his feet. He was waist deep when his tail appeared and Dean dove under the water, curious to see how far he could go. 

He didn’t know there was so much beauty in a little lake. There were catfishes minding their own business and cat tails peeking up from the mud bottom. The best was the minor waves from under the surface. Slick and shiny and like an oil painting. They looked like inverted clouds. The way the sun hit the surface just so gave it a heavenly glow. He needed to go swimming more often. 

Floating on top of the surface was just as nice. The rays warmed his stomach and chest as he faced the bright blue sky.The way the light hit his scales made the center look  a deep purple.  He’d always loved being away from the city at least for a little while. Nothing but the cicadas to keep him company. There was a rope swing to the left of the lake and a little gravel beach where Dean had his towel. Dean flipped onto his back and swam through the water to reach the beach. 

The sun was arching into the sky and he knew he had to hightail it back with donuts and coffee to appease his brother. The pebbles were cool against his tail and Dean sighed again, pleased it was spring. Returning to his human state came with a pleasant surprise. His legs were intact, the little scratches and cuts all healed up. Real bodies of water really had their perks. 

He returned to the hotel room around 10:30. Balancing cups of coffee and a box of donuts he rapped his hand on the door. 

“Dean?” Sam’s hair was ruffled from sleep and Dean stepped past him into the room. 

“Brought some chow and caffeine, I’m thinking we can go investigate the house after,” He turns around to face the barrel of a gun in his face. 

Stepping back Dean brings his hands up. The hell is going on?

“Now Sammy I know I took your shirt the other week but isn’t this a little over board?” Dean states dryly. 

“Who are you, or really what are you?” Sam questions and tightens his grip on the gun. 

Dean’s face drains of color. Shit, this was going to take some explaining. “I don’t know what you are talking about Sam,” Deny, deny until he can’t deny any more. 

“The hell you don’t, my brother wouldn’t sneak around like this,” There’s annoyance punctuating every word. 

_ Well Sam looks like you’re way off on this one.  _ “Sam,” There’s a pleading in his voice, “Just let me explain,”

“Why would I let you explain when I can kill you now and not give you the chance to hurt me,” 

Dean backs up and sits down in the chair, sliding his hand into his duffel and retrieving a silver knife. Quicker than Sam can fire he slits the upper part of his arm, blood dripping down but no supernatural damage. He holds the knife out to Sam in some peace message. 

“Now can I explain?” Sam nods, once and quick. He takes the knife before returning to his position, gun still trained on Dean. 

“Thewitchcursedme,” Dean mumbles, looking down at his hands. 

“What was that?” Sam’s eyebrows shoot up. 

“The witch cursed me, okay?” He grumbles and runs his hands through his hair.

Sam lowers his arms enough for Dean to grab the gun and deshell it. 

Stepping over to the sink Dean turns on the faucet. Sam looks at him weirdly before Dean dunks his hand in the water. Not the best plan as he hits both the dresser and the floor with his forehead, his tail curled under him in an unnatural position. He readjusts, wincing at the loud slap of the appendage on the hotel floor. When was the last time the cleaned the ground anyway?

“Holy shit. You…. That’s....” Sam breathes out heavily and if Dean didn’t know better he could’ve sworn Sam was about to pass out. 

“Easy there kid,” Dean sighs and pulls his way to the bathroom in search of a towel, 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

That pulls a scoff from Dean, “I don’t know it’s not like you pulled a gun on me or anything because you suspected me of not being me,”

“Fair enough,” The response is faint and barely there but hell if Dean doesn’t hear it. 

Sam knows now, Dean thinks that maybe it could be a good thing. Having the researcher finding a way out of this trap. Even if Dean was getting a little attached to his newfound merhood. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm thinking I'll wrap up this story in the next chapter or so but I hope you guys are liking it so far. As always I'd appreciate feedback and comments make my day so please don't be shy!


	5. Chapter 5

Dean growls when Sam’s eyes flicker over to him for the 50th time that night.

“I know I’m pretty Sam but it’s not going to rub off on you if you stare,” Dean snaps and Sam blinks like he’s forgotten how to function anymore.

“Sorry,” He’s muttering and pushing his hair up with the base of his palm.

Dean sighs, trying to let out the steam that’s been building all night. Beer bottles litter the tables next to the laptops and books. Sunlight had long left the room and all Dean wanted was some fresh air and a little water on his scales.

“How does… uh, this, you know, work?” Sam’s looking at him like a law textbook and he squirms under the attention.

“Which part?” Dean asks and wonders if he should start with the breathing underwater or healing powers first. God how he’d turned into a freak.

“I dunno. How long does it take the scales to appear? And how closely do your abilities follow merman lore?”

“There’s water and then a tail. That’s really all I know.” Dean picks up the bottles as he talks and stuffs the uncomfortable discussing his tail.

“Do you have powers?”

He’s possessive about it and a part of him churns on letting Sam know all the quirks, “Yeah, breathing underwater, healing.”

“Healing?” Sam huffs in interest.

The truth was Dean didn’t even know if he’d figured out all he could do. It seemed each time he went out and transformed he’d discovered something new. Maybe it was evolving the longer the curse stayed on him? Or maybe it was just new circumstances each time.

“Only in natural bodies of water though,” Dean adds as an afterthought, thinking back to the beautiful lake on the other side of town.

“Dude, I know you don’t want to keep this but do you know how useful this could be on hunts? Stab wound? No problem, have some pond water for you.” Ideas are playing across Sam’s face, arcing in his eyes and the way his lips turn up at the corners.

He’s seen that expression before next to a vial of demon blood and a car full of empty promises from Ruby. “Curse, Sam. Not a good thing,” Dejection etches itself into Sam’s skin and Dean feels a spike of guilt for reminding his brother of what he was.

“Bobby know?” The exit is smooth as butter but Dean still sees the way his hands curl up.

“Yeah, haven’t heard back from the bastard just yet,” Dean says as his phone starts to ring. Bobby did have impeccable timing.

“Talk,” Dean answers and if his voice is a little stern he blames it on the alcohol and not the fact that he might have to deal with losing his tail.

“I found a reverse spell. But there’s a few ingredients that may be a little hard to get,” Bobby’s voice floats into Dean’s ear.

“Okay, like?” Dean practically huffs.

“You need the blood of a black sea bass, a couple of cattails and one of the scales from your tail,”

“Thanks Bobby,” Is all Dean says as he snaps the burner phone shut and winces at having to mutilate a part of himself.

He breathes out heavily and suddenly his head is swimming. What is he thinking? Does he really want to get rid of the tail. He’s walking out the door and into the night air before Sam can ask where he’s going or what he’s doing. The chill in the air grounds Dean and he stares up at the stars.

“Boy, Dad did I get myself fucked,” Dean says to the constellations and feels a little silly. Fairytales weren’t real and he was talking to his dead Dad like that was going to change something. Like clarity was going to be bestowed upon him. When did he start going all soft and squishy and denial-y? He needed a beer.

His cell phone lights up, jumping up and down like a girl at a club. Dean flicks the ringer off and continues his shuffle down the sidewalk to the strip of shops and pubs down the block. His jacket is stiff and the bite lingers from winter seeping through the edges. To his right is a forest and peeking through the branches Dean can make out the flicker of the moonlight on the water. Split second decision and he's crunching on leaves instead of gravel.

The water feels smooth on his back as he dives in, immediately sinking to the bottom. Quiet, sereneness that had become so scarce in his life. Gone were the days spent in the hotel waiting for John to return, Sammy half asleep on the bed while Dean watched old reruns of Emergency! on the tv. Noise was his reality now. Gunshots and ghosts and old rock music on the radio. He wished for once that all that business would just disappear. He didn’t want to make decisions anymore, didn’t want to protect and serve.

The only time he really felt happy anymore was the final moments of a hunt, when the deed was done and there was a flicker of something- a little spike of pride and hope and genuine goodness- or when he was underwater, his hunter scars proudly projected all over his tail.

Dean ought to have thanked the witch except for the fact that he didn't know the further repercussions of this or if it was smart to keep the tail.

Not that he ever followed safe. 


	6. Chapter 6

Sam finds him in the morning-he always does- waking Dean up by diving into the water and dragging him out by his tail. Sam’s gasping for air by the time they get back to the grass and Dean is half tempted to slide right back in. 

“I was sleeping,” Dean states, blunt and he shivers when the cool breeze runs over the droplets all over his body. 

He just didn’t feel like dealing with this. With the Winchesters it was all bury and destroy because keeping those things on the surface would kill you or get you killed. There were no attachments. Except now… it didn’t matter he had to get rid of it. 

“Get dry. We’ve got some shopping to do,” Sam’s tone is clipped and it only takes a few seconds for Dean to notice the redness under his eyes and the slight stubble standing out on his brother’s face.

He wants to ask if Sam’s okay but there’s a distance Dean’s keeping between himself and everyone else. He’d never even realized he wanted that distance until he had a secret, one minute thing to keep to himself. 

“Yeah, okay just give me a little time to dry off,”  Dean keeps his voice level, trying not to ask, hint that he wants to know just how long Sam had been looking for him. 

They’re in the impala in a couple of minutes and Dean flicks the keys at Sam, “My legs always feel like they’re going to give out if I spend all night in the water,” is his explanation to the bewilderment in Sam’s eyes. 

“Oh, makes sense,” His voice is smooth but the tone is awkward and Dean sighs, staring out the window. 

What was he going to do? He was so tense all he wanted to do was snap at Sam but he didn’t deserve that. 

The radio started to play an old song John used to flip on when the boys were asleep and thought they could hear. It was John and Mary’s wedding song and Dean’s chest twinged at the memories that floated in on ‘Can’t Help Falling In Love With You’.

“I found the black sea bass blood. There’s a shop a town over. Seems to be run by hunters or at least a witch that isn’t trying to kill everyone.” 

Breath hitching in his chest Dean forces out a “Yeah, okay.” It was not okay. Cat tails could be found anywhere and Dean had his own scales, the blood was what he was hoping would be rare enough to take a few months. 

Rain pounded down outside and Dean tapped his head against the window. This thing that was attached to him had been a part of Dean for a few weeks. He didn’t want to give it up. How could he? Just pretend he didn’t love gliding through the water? Didn’t secretly find the seafood craving endearing? 

Small shop with black brick front. The door was metal and rusted around the edges, the glass window a few feet away portraying a black cloak and half a dozen charms. A bell rang as they entered and a young woman turned around at the noise. 

“Are you the ones that called about the sea bass blood?” She asked and Dean was surprised at the high pitch of her voice. 

“Yes ma’am,” Sam stepped forward and the woman spun around, her purple skirt flipping in the air. 

“You’re getting our last vial. Can I ask what you’re using it for?” She smiled and anger flared up in Dean. He didn’t want to discuss his condition. 

“Just a reversal spell,” Sam paid her for the blood and her blue eyes widened slightly. 

“Which one of you is the merman?” Her red hair was tied up in a tight bun. 

Sam’s eyes flickered over to Dean and he blushed deeply.

“Guilty as charged,” He moved to leave and the bell rang behind him as Sam followed. 

“So how exactly do we have to complete the ritual,” Maybe Dean could fuck it up somehow. Ensure that the tail would stay without having to admit he wanted it. 

“Moonlight tonight, build a fire. The Cattails go in first, then there’s a chant that I have to say and you’ll pour in the sea bass blood. Lastly, you have to pluck a fresh scale from your tail and add that in, the flames will burn purple then go out. Hopefully you’ll be human again,” Sam explained and Dean fought back tears. 

Day faded into night like food coloring dispersing into water. The stars were in sharp contrast to the ink black sky. “So I have to be in merman form during the ritual?” 

Sam nods and they continue to walk in the forest, silent except for the chirping crickets and buzz of the cicadas. They come to a brilliant pond. Dean breathes in amazement that he can find a creek, lake, pond any city he’s in. Anywhere he goes there’s still a connection to his tail.

“You have the cattails right?” Sam asks and Dean removes them from his jacket. 

There’s a fire pit close to the pond and Dean questions whether this is someone’s backyard or not. The night air smells slightly of smoke when Dean takes a breath before diving under the water. He sinks to the bottom, the waves black except for the white moonlight peering through. He exales, the bubbles floating up to the surface. 

Sam starts the fire and sets out the paper with the chant on it next to the pond. He removes the tweezers from his bag for Dean to use and opens the vial of the bass blood. 

Dean resurfaced and the fire had been lit. This was it. He was losing his tail, breaking the curse. What had once been all he’d wanted was now something he’s dreading. 

“Ready?” Sam asks and Dean nods against his better judgement. 

Cattails in the fire, the smoke was thick in Dean’s eyes. “God, could anything burn worse?”

Sam shot him a glare and started the chant, “Et sanguine, et germen squamis solvere quae contra naturam fiunt processus.” The fire billowed up and Dean cried out. 

Electricity was buzzing through Dean’s body and his tail felt on fire. His mind was swirling. 

“Dean the bass blood,” He was clutching the vial, his knuckles white. He jerked his tail up in choppy motions, it felt like an overused muscle. The bass blood went in and the fire turned black. Barely visible against the night sky. It felt like he was fading, buzzing in and out of reality. 

Dean looked down and saw that his tail was flipping between feet and fins and he gulped. Sam held his scale in his hand, the one that he’d gotten from the ragged part of his fin. It gleaned purple in the center and Sam’s hand lowered closer to the fire. 

“Stop!” He was yelling and Sam was backing away from the fire before he could even think to make this all go away. He didn’t want to leave the tail behind.

“Dean, the hell?” He turned quickly, bringing the tail up and spraying the fire with water. He was breathing heavy but the pain subsided, his tail solidifying. 

“I can’t. I can’t. I- this is something I want to keep,” Sam looks at him in confusion but his expression is grounded in the seriousness of Dean’s eyes. His lips pursed in a thin line. There’s sweat lingering on his cheeks from the heat of the fire but Sam gets it. The curse that seems more like a gift. 

“What if this is like the blood Dean?” Sam asks and Dean shrugs. 

“Then we’ll do the spell then. But for now, I want this. It’s not harming me and…” He trails off not wanting to upset his brother. 

“And what?”

“It’s the first time I felt really connected to anything. You and I are connected but I haven’t had anything new in centuries."

And even if Sam doesn’t understand he nods, accepts. The Winchester way of dropping subjects forever. The way of getting over it and getting along. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the story has finally come to an end but I'm thinking of writing a sequel. Please leave a comment if you guys want to see that. Thank you all for your support and feedback of the story it really means a lot to me! :)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! I'm hoping to write more chapters if you want to read more? Please review or kudos, the feedback really means a lot to me


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